Hello…Good-bye…Later

For those that have not noticed, I have been away.  I was way down under, down under a large pile of covers.  This served a dual purpose; I was wonderfully warm and cozy and with the covers pulled over my head I was invisible (well it seemed to work when I was three).,

I was dragged from my hiding place kicking and screaming; “Mom is expecting us for breakfast, get dressed, you can have your coffee on the way.”

“Mom”, is Marion (Wicked Witch of the West, one of the octogenarian couple and mother to the SWMBO), Marion is suffering with cancer and is at present going through the first of four cycles of chemotherapy; I have assisted with her in-home care.

“John (elder brother to the SWMBO and present care giver to “Mom”).wants to have a talk.”

Family conversations, at least those within the SWMBO’s family, are not on my top ten best things; actually sitting in on one thiumeir conversations is like being a very special corner of Hell.

Dad (John senior, male component of the octogenarian couple) was at the kitchen staring at his empty coffee cup and trying desperetly to reach through the fog of his dementia and remember what he was going to do with this thing in his hand.  “Mom” was in her bed, sighing, afraid to get up, mentally reviewing her morning list of medications, “Cyndi”, she yelled down, “do I have any Imodium…I have to have Imodium, I’ve got diarrhea again.  Where’s my orange juice, can’t take my pills without my orange juice.”

John (the elder brother)sat in the blue wing-back chair tucked in the far corner of the living room, his face concealed  by the open book he held.

“How long has she had diarrhea, Johnnie?”

“Since Thursday.”  He turned a page.  “I’m leaving next Tuesday .”  His head turned slightly to his right as moved his gaze to the next page, he paused briefly and again, turned the page.

“Mom, and you making it to the bathroom alone?  Michael, make sure she’s cleaning herself.  Michael’s going to get you down for doughnuts.  When are you coming back ?”  The SWMBO was definitely in the house.

Never revealing his face, “Don’t know.”  Another page gone.

The SWMBO’s voice could be heard throughout the house, “John, come to the table for doughnuts.”

From his chair, eight feet away, “Don’t eat breakfast.”

“Are there any jelly doughnuts, I like jelly doughnuts.”  Dad looked from box to box opened on the table.

“Dad, you’ve eaten three jelly doughnuts already,” I said, “can I get you more coffee?”

“Three, are you sure?  They were really fresh.  Three?…Are there any jelly doughnuts, I like jelly doughnuts…when they’re fresh.  Are there any jelly doughnuts?”

On the ride home; “You’ll have to stay there through the week; I’ll come over on Saturdays and you can go home over the weekend.  You’ll have be back Sunday afternoon.  That should give you time to take care of our yard.  I think you know that the only way this is going to work is if they move in…its the only way we will be able to spend any time together…its the only way they can save any money…its the only way…and when I’m home, I can help you with them.   Oh, State Farm wants everyone in the Division to put in fourteen hours OT every month.  If you were still working I would be happy to retire and help more.”  The SWMBO was driving, nibbling on her fingernails, interrupted only by a need to adjust the temp control.

“…its the only way” was fading away as in my mind I pictured climbing under a large pile of blankets and once more becoming invisible.

 

 

Dear friends, with my new (insane) schedule and the duties involved, I will be restricted to writing one day a week.  I promise to share my meditations from the weed garden and observations and conversations with warriors of the finest ilk.

The NW Oncology Group, here in Kennesaw (GA), provides chemotherapy treatments for 60-75 victims of cancer daily.  Some, like Mom, once a week, others; every other week or so.  There are no masques there, no casts, they face a common foe, and…and there are no tears.

There are smiles, gregarious outbursts of affection, it is never quiet and there is much laughter.  I can not say I know the cause, I can only speculate at this point, but I hope to find out what it is that brings light and laughter into their lives and I promise I will share.

 

peace out, pilrims

 

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Emergency Response Times

In the midst of the second “crippling” winter storm to hit Northern Georgia in as many weeks.  The vigorous efforts of local, state, federal and military entities to improve response times and to keep our roadways flowing prompted  the posting of this earlier piece.

 

30 September 2017

Office of the Mayor, New Worldsville, State of Caution Her Honor, the Mayor, wishes to acknowledge the concerns of New Worldsville’s citizens regarding response times to emergency calls.  Mayor Weaver is confident that 911 calls being followed by 27 minute waits (on average) for police, fire and ambulances will soon be a thing of the past.

~

04 October 2017

Presented to the City Council receipt of delivery: 50 hood-mounted Laser Canons from Weaver Munitions Works, New Worldsville, State of Caution. Weaver Munitions Works factory technicians provided to install said canons on designated city vehicles,

~

07 October 2017

Directive to Chiefs of Fire and Police Departments, New Worldsville, from the Office of the Mayor.

Those vehicles that have been equipped with the new accessories will be the first deployed to any 911 emergency calls.  If in the course of responding to these calls, should any civilian vehicles not acknowledge proper right of way, use of their new equipment may be warranted and sanctioned.

~

12 October 2017

Notice from the Office of Ms. Darcy Weaver, Mayor, New Worldsville, State of Caution

Mayor Weaver is happy to announce at this time that in keeping with her promise of 30 September to the people of New Worldsville, emergency response times have been slashed to 4 minutes.

She is pleased, as well, to report that there are now over 14,000 employment opportunities available for those young people that survive to graduate from our fine centers of learning.

~

The mayor looks forward to the opportunity of serving you for another 4 years.

Drive courteously…and don’t forget to vote.

Jan. 01, 2014

 

 

The SWMBO is calling in her birthday chits; detail the car in the morning and prepare dinner for the octogenarians tonight.

 

The Duchess and I are off to market early in the day, I’ll need oranges, limes and a good lean pork roast.  Tonight’s fare: Puerto Rican pulled pork, hoppin’ john over jasmine rice; 2 hours of prep and 8 hours cooking time.  This is the first of twenty-five dinners I’m obligated to.

 

Duchess (my 17 year old puppy) seems glad to see me leaving the store; she grows so tired of all the “Isn’t she sweet?”, “Hello, doggie.” and “Do you want to come home with me?”  As soon as I reach the car, Duchess behind the wheel I have to remind her, “You don’t have your license young lady, I’m driving.”  She will remain behind the wheel until she gets a treat or God forbid I don’t have any treats she will retreat to the back seat and pout (much like many other 17 year olds).

 

Errands run, I enter my domain (for the day at least) and prepare for the feast.  I do so enjoy being able to drive the SWMBO away, wooden spoon in hand, “leave my kitchen immediately” (such a power rush).  That lasted about 90 minutes, I finished all the prep, the roast was in the cooker, the beans had been soaking overnight and I’d cleaned my mess.  My reign in the kitchen had come to an end.   I put the last cutting board away; she smirking with arms crossed leaning against the door frame of the dining room, “Don’t forget the car, hon”, “Its 38 degrees out there.”  She held up the gift certificate I had prepared for her Birthday present, 10 Free Car Detailing, Any Time, Every Day Is Ladies’ Day.

 

I discovered that it is impossible to wash a car with gloves on, no matter how much you want it not to be so.